


Cydan's Court

by BorosPaladin



Series: Nova Alabastra [1]
Category: Kingdoms of Amalur
Genre: Gen, House of Sorrows
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-14
Updated: 2014-08-14
Packaged: 2018-02-13 02:46:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 624
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2134227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BorosPaladin/pseuds/BorosPaladin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Well, someone had to be king, dammit. That didn't mean he had to enjoy his position.</p><p>I was inspired to begin writing my Amalur headcanons by Silverheart's "In the Ruins of Winter" and ab2fsycho's ... encouragement.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Cydan's Court

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Silverheart](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silverheart/gifts), [ab2fsycho](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ab2fsycho/gifts).



> It's actually possible to save two Sorrows Rebels at the very beginning of the Fallen Hall if you're fast and use Reckoning Mode. This is relevant to the following work.

“So, neither of you two are Delvers. That leaves us in quite the situation, doesn’t it? No delvers, no rebuilding.”

“If I may, milord – ”

“You may not,” Cydan whispered sharply. “Or at least, if I had my way, you wouldn’t. But, given how few of us there are, I am forced to hear you out. Speak, then, before I lose my patience and add your tongue to the dead.”

“Milord, the mortals are already working to deal with the bodies in the Midden, and the Fateless One stopped the Tuatha. We could search their number for any worthy candidates to join the House and work towards rebuilding the Court.”

“So, your idea is to make Winter a human kingdom?”

“No, milord. As I have said, I was a delver, but even the last bits of my gift have left me. I believe our Sorrows have been locked away, and Unseelie who are reborn will not need to be delved. The mortals are a temporary measure, to begin the rebuilding while we wait for the rest of our brethren.”

“And what if our brethren never return, hmm? What then?”

“Then we honor in death what we failed to honor before, the death and decay that make us of Winter, and no other choice could have changed it.”

Cydan picked up Gadflow’s crown and toyed with it. “Aye, perhaps so.” He rose. “Well, let us not repeat the mistakes of the past as those Summer fools are wont to do. The two of you are now the King and Queen of Sorrows. Queen of tending, King of delving. Delving, though – we delve mortal hearts instead of Fae. Yours, for now, is to discern who among the mortals may be inducted.

“Go now, before I change my mind. There is much to be done.”

They bowed as they left, the only two Sorrows Rebels that the Fateless One had been able to save from the Tuatha’s plots.

As they left, another two Winter Fae walked in, with one shackled between them.

“Milord, this is Master Farraglen, the – “

“I know well who he is. Leave him here, and I will deal with him.”

Farraglen turned his head for hardly a moment to watch the guards leave, but that was more time than Cydan needed to cross the room and put his blade to Farraglen’s neck. “You are lucky, Tuatha wretch,” Cydan hissed. “You are lucky that your skills are needed because that is the only reason you remain alive.”

“Really? I’m honestly surprised at you, Cydan. I thought you wouldn’t have even bothered to execute me personally, not to invite me for tea.”

Cydan lowered his blade. “Your cooperation would be ideal. The moment you’re more trouble than you’re worth, well, you might not even know that my mind has changed before you die.”

“Well, I’m glad this business is resolved. May I return to work now, Your Loftiness?”

Cydan walked past the bound Fae and opened the doors. “Take him back to his work. Keep me informed.”

Cydan collapsed on the throne as the doors closed. He had a bit more sympathy for mortal kings now – ruling with an uncertain future is no easy task. It’s easy to plan centuries ahead when you are assured to last the year.

He looked down at the crown, thrown to the ground when he had threatened Farraglen. Even without a face behind it, he could see and hear Gadflow’s mocking laughter, clear as ever. As ever, he did nothing because he couldn’t decide whether to smash it, gift it to the Fateless One as a trophy, or toss it into the Amethyn. He wished he had nobles just so he wouldn’t have to keep hearing the echoes of the past….


End file.
